


Every Man Will Do His Duty

by Cicerothewriter



Category: Poirot - Agatha Christie
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Minor Character Death, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-08
Updated: 2011-06-08
Packaged: 2017-10-20 06:19:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/209676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cicerothewriter/pseuds/Cicerothewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Japp wins Nelson, a teddy bear, at the pier.  During the Blitz, Nelson becomes a source of reassurance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Man Will Do His Duty

**Author's Note:**

> Note 1: Set during "Robbery at the Grand Metropolitan". I love the scene between Hastings and Japp, and I had to write something in response. A few lines come from the episode.
> 
> Note 2: This is also set in the same universe as my other Poirot stories. It's probably best if you read _Notre Foyer_ before this, but it isn't absolutely necessary.

Poirot wanted some time alone to think and also to rest because, despite his insistence that he was fine, we both knew that he was exhausted. I allowed Poirot to save face by telling him that I wanted to go to the pier as I knew that Japp would be there and I wanted a word with him. In truth, I did not have much to say to Japp, but I had become aware over the last few months that all was not well with him. I counted Japp as one of my closest friends - a trusted friend - and it was nice to have a night off from making sure that Poirot did not exhaust himself further. With Poirot safe in his room, I could relax.

While we strolled about, Japp worked through some frustrated energy, and I sensed that there was more than was normal when working on a case with Poirot. He hit the bell on the first try at the strongman game, and shot a record number of ducks at the shooting gallery, winning a large teddy bear. I was amused by the sight of a grown man, often so dour-looking, holding a child's toy with every evidence of enjoyment. I had rarely seen Japp so relaxed, and I was grateful for this moment of peace for my friend.

"Are you going to give that to your wife?" I asked, hoping that this question would lead me to what was bothering Japp.

Japp shook his head, his expression long-suffering. While not a man of movie star looks, Japp was handsome. He had not the brilliance of Poirot, but he was an excellent policeman and dedicated to duty and justice. I admired him for his ability to rise up in the world, and I think that he and Poirot had more in common than either of them would care to admit.

"She'll think it a frivolity, and then ask me suspiciously who I was out with." Japp rolled his eyes, and cuddled the bear closer.

"What are you going to do with it then? Seems a shame to get rid of it since you won it."

"Are you hinting that you would like it, Captain? What would Poirot say?" Japp teased me in his gruff manner, and I blushed.

"I was thinking more in the line that you could leave Teddy safe with me, and visit him whenever you wish."

Japp thought for a moment, and then said, "His name is Nelson."

"Nelson?"

"Yeah," Japp said, as if it were obvious why.

I nodded firmly, as if I knew why, and said, "I'll keep him safe."

"Keep him away from French sharpshooters."

We both laughed. The night was beautiful and a perfect temperature, and I felt a moment of longing for Poirot.

Japp must have sensed my mood because he asked, "What's Poirot up to then?"

"Thinking," I replied, frustrated by the entire matter.

"Oh," Japp said.

"This was meant to be a rest, you know. Heaven knows what Ms. Lemon is going to say when she arrives."

"It's not your fault, Hastings. Trouble seems to have found Poirot this time and not the other way around."

We looked at each other, our affection for the man in question clear.

"I envy you both sometimes," Japp said softly.

"You do?" I said, surprised.

"Yes." His response was drawn out, almost as if he were reluctant to speak. "You know you're loved."

I had my answer to what was bothering Japp, and if I had been a boy or a young lad, I might have given Japp a hug. Instead I said, "Surely Mrs. Japp loves you, doesn't she?"

Japp looked down at his bear, his gaze thoughtful. "I suppose so, but that particular bloom fell off many years ago, not that it was a great romance to begin with, not like some people's."

He gave me a meaningful look, and I grinned, deeply satisfied by how our "great romance" had developed. It was then that we were interrupted by the maid from the Grand Metropolitan Hotel, and our evening was cut short by new information that the inspector received. He gave Nelson to me with a meaningful glance, and departed.

I sighed, and after eating one more ice cream, I returned to our rooms.

Poirot was awake when I entered. He was dressed for bed, but was reading on the settee. He looked up when I entered, and his attention quickly turned to the stuffed bear.

"What is that, Hastings?"

"This is Nelson. Japp won him from the shooting range."

A brief expression of consternation crossed Poirot's face. I removed my hat, and sat down next to Poirot. Although only a few hours had passed since I left for the pier, I had missed him, and proceeded to demonstrate my feelings via several enthusiastic kisses. Perhaps Poirot sensed my need because he allowed me to continue without even a token protest.

Eventually I pressed a kiss to his temple, and asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Much improved, _mon ami_. Despite your worries, I am resting sufficiently."

"My heart nearly stopped when you collapsed, love," I said, holding him tighter. We had been at a dinner party when Poirot collapsed, and until the doctor arrived I had feared that it might be Poirot's heart or that someone had poisoned him.

"I know," Poirot replied, his hand stroking my cheek gently. " _Mon malheureux_ Hastings, you need a rest, too."

I laughed softly. We stayed silent for a few moments, content to be near one another.

Poirot said, obviously amused, "Have you satisfied your curiosity as to what is upsetting the inspector?"

For a moment I was shocked, but not for long because Poirot knew me better than anyone. I smiled and said, "I think so."

I teased him by remaining silent. Nelson had fallen to my feet during our embrace, and I calmly reached down and picked him up. Poirot was waiting for me to speak, and so with exaggerated carefulness I arranged Nelson on the table in front of us.

Poirot sighed, and said, "Yes, Hastings?"

I laughed, and kissed him again, but he would not be so easily distracted this time. "Japp is concerned about his marriage."

Poirot nodded. I am in no doubt that Poirot suspected as much, but it was better for him to hear confirmation of his suspicions. "What did he say precisely?" Poirot asked.

"Not much," I replied. "I asked him if he would give Nelson to his wife, although Japp didn't name him Nelson until after this part of the conversation, you understand. He said he wouldn't, and I said that I would take care of Nelson for him."

Some parts of our conversation, such as Japp's envy, would remain private. I did not have to be told to know that some confessions are not to be shared, even with my other half. I owed Japp that much for his honesty.

"It was a beautiful evening, Poirot. If the weather holds, will you accompany me to the pier?"

Poirot's eyes darkened at my words, and he murmured, "I had wondered what had put such fire in your blood, _mon chou_. The seaside, she does it every time."

"Do you not approve of the romance? A dark, secretive night. Two people in love… together and alone." I felt heavy arousal fill my body as I spoke, and I could see that Poirot was equally affected.

"You seduce me with your words. I shall go wherever you wish, but not tonight. No, tonight the temptation of the bed is too great."

"You won't get any arguments from me," I said, rising as he did.

 

Nelson the bear returned with us to London, and I thought nothing more about him until years later, when Nelson was needed. Once again England was at war, and Germany was attempting to crush British spirit and industry with a series of bombing raids. I found the war exhausting, in part due to the constant reminder of my time at the front during the Great War. Nevertheless, Poirot and I persevered, and Poirot continued to offer his services as a private detective, despite the danger.

We had spent the night in the nearby shelter, and were just returning to our flat. Freddie was shaking in my arms, and Poirot was white-faced but calm. Thankfully our building had survived the bombing unscathed, but I feared that other parts of the city had not.

Ms. Lemon was at her sister's, and I was very worried for her safety, but when I picked up the telephone to ring her, the line was dead.

"We were most fortunate," Poirot said, and I nodded, kissing him gently on the lips. Freddie whimpered softly, and Poirot stroked Freddie's head in a calming manner.

We both turned at a furious knock on the door. Freddie refused to leave my arms, and so I went to answer it with him still shaking. Poirot sat behind his desk, ready as always to receive our visitor, despite our sleepless night in the Underground.

Japp stepped just inside the hallway, and I could tell from his expression that something terrible had happened. I shut and locked the door as I asked, "What's wrong?"

"What isn't wrong?" Japp replied, his eyes red.

I started to speak, but Japp interrupted me by saying, "Where's Nelson?"

"Nelson?"

"Nelson. Remember? I won him at that fair."

"Oh, Nelson! Yes, I'll just get him for you."

I led Japp into the sitting room, and hurried into my old bedroom. For reasons of safety and decorum we left it as a bedroom, but I never slept there. We now used it mainly for storage of clothes, my camera equipment, and spare furniture. I spotted Nelson sitting on the dresser, and grabbed him.

Freddie was feeling more himself, and wiggled in my arms, wanting to be let down. I did so, and then handed Nelson over to Japp. Japp sat down on the settee, and hugged Nelson close.

I had to be near Poirot, and so I sat down on the edge of his desk. Poirot and I shared a look; there was no need for words between us.

"What has happened?" Poirot asked, his voice gentle and full of compassion.

"A bomb," Japp said. "It landed on our street. I might have got in, if one of the constables hadn't recognized that I lived there. They wouldn't let me near the place."

We were all silent.

"Japp," I said softly, intending to say I don't know what, but Poirot rested a hand on my knee and squeezed it gently, indicating that I should cease.

"Perhaps some tea, Hastings?"

"Yes," I said.

I set the kettle to boil, and searched for some biscuits to go with the tea. I could hear murmuring in the sitting room, and I hoped that Poirot was able to comfort our friend. For a moment I felt a deep fear that next it might be me unable to return to our destroyed home and Poirot nowhere to be found. I hurried with the tea tray, and brought everything into the sitting room.

Poirot was sitting in the armchair closest to Japp. Japp was hugging Nelson to his chest, his expression devastated and yet strangely blank. Freddie was lying against Japp's feet, offering what comfort he could. I put the tray down, and handed round the tea.

"Have you heard from Ms. Lemon?" Japp asked, after a few minutes of sipping. The tea was bringing some color back to his cheeks.

I shook my head. "The telephone lines must be down."

After tea, Poirot assisted me with cleaning up. In the kitchen we spoke in hushed voices.

Poirot said, "The telephone lines will most likely be repaired at Scotland Yard before they are here. If the inspector wishes for news, he would be better able to obtain it there."

"Yes, but look at him," I replied. "He's absolutely gutted. I don't think he should go out."

Poirot's expression was sympathetic, and I could see that he was torn as to what advice he should give.

"Let Japp decide," I said softly. "Offer him both options, and let him choose. Whatever has happened has already happened. Giving Japp the choice may make him feel more in control."

Poirot's admiring expression warmed me as did his kiss. "You may not have the detective's brain, _mon chou_ , but your heart is _sans égal_."

However, my brilliant plan was thwarted by finding Japp asleep on the settee. We shifted him so that he would be more comfortable, placed a blanket over him, and retired to the kitchen so that he could have some quiet.

Japp woke after an hour, and I put the question to him then. He thought for a few moments, and said, "I should go to the Yard. It would have been my day off, but they may need help after the bombing last night."

The three of us rose, and I said, "Please let us know when you learn what happened."

"I shall, captain," he replied, and shook my hand. He then handed Nelson to me and said, "Keep him safe."

I nodded, and then fired off a salute. Japp rolled his eyes, but I could see he was amused.

He turned to Poirot, nodded his goodbye, and then shook Poirot's hand. "Thank you for your hospitality," Japp said, looking a little self-conscious.

"You are welcome, _mon ami_. We shall always be available to you."

Japp nodded, and left.

 

Ms. Lemon had been unable to reach us via the telephone, and so she arrived personally to see that we were fine and to resume the day's usual activities. While they were busy, I fed and walked Freddie, read the paper, and had a welcome nap on the settee.

Japp called us late in the afternoon. His wife had been one of the unfortunates caught in the bombing. The funeral would have to be held quickly, and we were asked to attend.

The reception was held at our flat by Poirot's invitation. Japp's local church had been destroyed, and few other options existed. Not many attended. Some were busy burying their own family members; others did not want to remember death.

Nelson attended, and after the reception I gave him back to Japp.

**Author's Note:**

> French Translations:
> 
> malheureux – unhappy, miserable, wretched, poor soul  
> mon chou – my dear; (lit) my cabbage  
> sans égal – without equal, unequaled


End file.
